Ashes to Ashes
by LeilaEditer
Summary: He looked upon the burning building, knowing they were in there, dancing with the fire. He looked, and his hopes and dreams went up with the flames. TRAGIC long-shot. Zelink. Inspired by the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire.


**Funny story. So there I was, sitting in history, minding my own business, not paying attention, when we start talking about the Triangle Shirtwaist factory fire. Being the little sadist I am, my first thought was, "Hey, this would make a damn good twisted fanfic." ****And _then_, my teacher says, "Your assignment is to write about the event from the point of view of either a witness or a survivor." Bingo, so then I had an excuse to write it, and... yeah. Here we are.**

**This is the long, more twisted version. The one I turned in was _slightly _less mentally-scarring, and was not Zeldafied. My poor teacher. My only hope is that she is as sadistically disturbed as I am. Anywho, I hope you like it! Oh I'm actually mortified I turned what I did in... My teacher is honestly going to think there is something wrong with me and recommend me for counseling...**

**Warnings: Character deaths, fire, and most likely disturbing figurative language. And a few colorful words. I didn't put those in my paper. Most of this is pretty accurate to the real thing. I bent a few things out of shape here and there for sake of FanFiction.**

**And I listened to "Til Kingdom Come" by Coldplay while ****writing this and made myself cry. If you listen to it from 4:45 on, it's pretty heart wrenching!**

**~Leila**

**UPDATE: MY TEACHER DOES NOT THINK I AM DISTURBED REPEAT MY TEACHER DOES NOT THINK I AM DISTURBED! Not only did I get 100%, but she's using it as an example for next year and admitted to crying. I made my teacher cry. Mwahaha! Okay maybe I am disturbed, but at least she doesn't think so...  
**

**(Also, Rey, I used a teeny little quote from Mercy so yeah... Thank you...)**

* * *

**In your tears and in your blood, in your fire and in your flood, I hear you laugh, I heard you sing, "I wouldn't change a single thing."  
**

* * *

**4:37 AM**

_"Goood morning Hyrule! And what a wonderful morning it is, on this wonderful day of March twenty-fifth. Wouldn't you say it's a particularly special morning, Janet?"_

_"Why, yes, there does seem to be an air of something extra this morning, though I'm not quite sure why. Maybe something __spectacular will happen today, something never seen before in this beautiful country..."_

The ever-cheerful voices of Janet and Jim, the morning radio talk-show hosts, filled the Heuton apartment with artificial chatter, making the nineteen- almost twenty- year old feel slightly less lonely as she pinned her hair up, careful to make sure each curl was in its proper place.

Her mother was already at work, slaving away in the bakery just downstairs. Sometimes, she forgot she had a mother. She was in the shop from before the sunrise to after the sunset, never surfacing for a break or giving herself the luxury of rest.

Immigrating to Hyrule didn't bring the life of freedom and luxury they had been expecting. They came from Labrynna a hopeful family, expecting streets paved with gold. What they found were streets smeared with sewage and covered in so much trash, you couldn't see the cheap asphalt beneath. If there was asphalt, that is. What they found were cramped living quarters, and factories that caused Papa's death. Yes, Hyrule was "the Golden Land," but that only applied to a select few people.

Seeing black and white photos of Midna Vanderbilt's gilded summer "cottage" after forcing her exhausted mother into her makeshift bed always filled her with rage. What did that pampered girl ever do to deserve all that money? She simply had to be born with a name, and she got the world handed to her on a golden platter.

While Midna Vanderbilt rolled up and smoked _one hundred dollar bills_, she and her mother struggled to eat each night. From the time her papa died, at age nine, until she was sixteen, she slaved away in the kitchen of the quaint bakery her mother owned. "Authentic Labryinian Pastries," the sign read. Her mother refused to sleep, rarely ate, and practically wasted away within the walls of that bakery.

As a child she watched her mother's skeletal fingers knead the bread and braid the dough. She would drop the pipe of apricot filling to rush to her mother's aid as she stumbled from fatigue, practically collapsing under the weight of four unbaked loaves of bread.

So as soon as she could, she rushed off to get her own job, hoping the help of a second income would ease her mother's worries of starving and encourage her to come home to sleep at night, and eat her bowl of cabbage soup instead of creating whirlpools around her spoon.

And just before her seventeenth birthday, she landed herself a job at the Triforce Shirtwaist Factory, making shirtwaists from five in the morning to five in the afternoon.

It wasn't the most enjoyable way to pass the hours; sitting at a high-speed sewing machine with a pile of cloth all day grew tiring rather fast. Yet her mother finally was able to relax, at least a little, and since the bakery did well, was able to overcome her fear of losing money and hire a few workers to assist her in running the shop. She still did all the baking herself, up at four to put her risen loaves of bread in the ovens, and home at eleven after mixing up a new batch of dough.

More often than not, she would be up late with her mother, rolling and kneading and mixing into the dark hours of the night. Though she wasn't able to assist all the time, she did have her own life to attend to after all.

Smiling weakly at her reflection, she flattened her skirt before glancing at the clock mounted on the wall once again. Four-forty. Aryll would be arriving any minute.

Aryll Kennedy was the fourteen year-old sister of her longtime friend and lover, Link Kennedy. The Kennedys had lived in the apartment- if they were big enough to be called that- down the hall since they had moved to the dilapidated old building. She and Link had been fast friends, getting into plenty of mischief together during their short-lived childhood, and had always been there for the other during hard times.

When her papa had died, Link would do anything and everything to cheer her up. He made paper airplane notes and flew them down the hall, nice words scrawled in his slanted script arriving at the doorstep. He would hug her as she cried on the fire escape. He even tried to make her cookies once, a tragedy that was never again repeated.

And when his family was struggling after the market crash, she and her mother made sure to give them the burnt or unsold loaves of bread, helping the large family to support their four children.

The romantic side to their friendship began one night when Link presented her with a tiny Contáineré necklace, one of the most expensive jewelers in Hyrule. It was a tiny, heart shaped thing, not even as big as her pinky nail. He had saved earnings from being a paper boy and washing cars to buy it for her, and she'd been so happy, she'd kissed him.

She still wore it now, even though he'd given it to her five years ago. Their parents joked about marriage all the time, and though she laughed along with them, she couldn't help but hope and wish and dream that _someday__-_

"Zelda!"

She jumped at the sound of a fist roughly banging on the rotting wood of the apartment door before regaining her composure and walking to answer it. Standing there, arms crossed, an impatient scowl on her young face, was Aryll Kennedy, wearing her blue floral print skirt and her hair in two neat braids tied with fraying blue yarn.

"Good morning, Aryll," Zelda greeted politely, grabbing her bag and closing the door behind her, making sure to lock it tight. Wouldn't want anyone stealing their poor, broken furniture.

"It's not morning yet," Aryll grumbled. "The sun isn't up, therefore it is not morning."

Aryll had never really been fond of mornings, and usually complained from the second she saw Zelda to lunch break at noon. She, much to Zelda's upset, also worked the long hours at the Triforce Shirtwaist, while her mother stayed at home doing the occasional laundry job and raising the two year-old twins.

It hurt Zelda to think that this young girl was destroying her innocence in the workplace as she had once done. Innocence was a hard thing to come by nowadays, especially among the working poor.

Outside the old tenement building, the city streets were illuminated by the glow of the newly-invented electric lightbulbs. Zelda was still amazed by the fact of instant light. She used to flick the switch on and off and on and off just to watch, until her mother gave her a good scolding. She was "too old for such childish games", and she was "running up the bills." Both of which were true statements.

In the poor lighting they picked their way through the filthy streets and made it safely to a clean sidewalk, where the factory building was visible only two blocks away. Towering a full ten stories, the building was home to many businesses. The Triforce Factory only claimed the top three floors, making the trip up in the elevator crowded, and uncomfortable.

Zelda hated elevators. She was always scared the cable would snap.

"I hate going this early. The sun isn't even up yet. It's dark, and one day we're going to get raped and die," Aryll grumbled, pulling her ratty coat closer around her.

Zelda giggled. This was so like Aryll to always be on the negative side of things. "Raped at four in the morning?" she inquired.

"You can be raped any time!" Aryll insisted. "One time Malon from the Factory said her older sister Cremia was raped at five-thirty in the morning on her way to work, and the guy had been waiting to catch someone going to work! He knew-"

"Oh stop it, you're being ridiculous. Malon isn't always the most trustworthy source in the world, you know. She doesn't even speak fluent Hylian," Zelda reminded her, putting an end to the girl's foolish antics.

"Your point? I'm just saying we need to watch out, that's all. Or come to work when there's more people out. That way the rapist can get them instead," she said, glancing around quickly to search for the men she swore were there.

"You're terrible. Way to put others before yourself," Zelda teased, shoving the girl playfully. Aryll responded by hissing in an animal-like fashion.

"What? I just don't like people much."

"Whatever do you mean?" Zelda asked as they crossed the car-less street. It wasn't that it was too early for cars, it was just that anyone who could actually afford th wouldn't be up at this hour, and they sure didn't live around their neighborhood.

"I'm just saying that if Midna Vanderbilt got run over by a Model-Z Target, I wouldn't mind. At all," Aryll told Zelda honestly. "Or if a lightning bolt struck Sheik Rockefeller's pool while he was out for a dip, I might not be too sad."

"You're terribly cynical," Zelda commented. "And maybe even a touch sadistic."

"Oh, more than a touch," Aryll responded cheerfully, pushing open the front door of the Factory building. "Link tells me I'm disturbed a lot."

"Yeah, about Link..." Zelda muttered, calling for the elevator and wringing her hands in her skirt, a nervous habit of hers.

"What about him? He's a blubbering softie that waddles around like a lovesick puppy all the time," Aryll said, crossing her arms and yawning.

"Puppies don't really waddle, that's more of a duck thing-"

"Don't finish that thought. Anyway, what about Link?" Aryll asked.

"Do you know what he has planned for tonight?" Zelda inquired, hoping to coax information from the girl.

Link had been planning this dinner for a long, long time. After finally saving enough money, he reserved them a dinner at one of the nicer restaurants downtown and told her there would be a surprise, though no matter how much she pestered, how many kisses she gave, how many puppy-dog looks she tried, he would always smirk knowingly and remind her of the dictionary definition of 'surprise.'

_"Now Zelda, a surprise is an unexpected or astonishing event, fact, or thing. If I told you, would it be unexpected or astonishing? No. It would be completely expected and rather un-astonishing. Therefore, you will just have to be __patient."_

"I may or may not know of the devil's plans," Aryll said coyly, smirking to herself.

"And?" Zelda pressed.

"And I may or may not have sworn secrecy to the devil in exchange for a dollar."

"For _a_ _dollar_!? My best informant, also my one and only informant, swayed by a petty bribe?" Zelda moaned, still fiddling with her skirt as the elevator doors slid open, revealing the tired face of the elevator operator, Ganon.

Upon seeing the girls, namely Zelda, his face lit up and his posture straightened. He had worked the elevator for five years now, ever since he was seventeen. Conversation in the Shirtwaist factory often centered around his handsome face and kind nature.

"Morning ladies," he said, smiling brightly as he slid the grate closed.

"Good morning, Ganon," Zelda replied with an equally radiant smile.

Though she would never know it, Ganon was in love with Zelda. He had been from the first day she began working at the factory, dazed and confused as she struggled to figure out where to go and what to do. In his life of quiet monotony, her smiles and constant chatter brightened his day both times she used his elevator. He would count seconds and minutes and hours until her next visit, and even though he knew she had a boyfriend, knew she loved him, he loved her anyways.

"And how are my two favorite blondes doing this morning? Sadistically grumpy as usual?" he teased, winking at Aryll as the elevator creaked and began its ascent.

"As usual," Aryll sighed in agreement.

Zelda grinned uneasily, hands knotted in her skirt as the elevator lurched on. As much as she enjoyed Ganon's company, she really wished he had a different job. Floor manager, perhaps. Janitor even. Anything but elevator operator.

"Zelda, you look a little queasier than usual, what's on your mind?" Ganon asked sympathetically, golden eyes warm.

"The elevator plummeting down ten stories and exploding in the basement," she said with a weak smile.

"Aryll, you're contagious!" Ganon joked. "Look, you've gone and given Zelda a case of your sadism!"

Aryll grinned in a way Zelda found maniacal. "Yes, very good, my plan is working!" she declared, throwing a very exaggerated evil laugh in for dramatic effect. Zelda always told Link she should be in theater.

Zelda and the elevator operator laughed, looking at each other and shaking their heads in unison.

"You're crazy, kid," Zelda said affectionately, tugging the short girl's braids.

It was rather funny that Aryll, with her fiery temper and strong opinions, barely cleared five feet, making her seem more like an eight year-old than a fourteen year-old. Though what she lacked in height, she made up for five times over in personality.

"We're all a little crazy, aren't we?" Ganon asked, smiling as the elevator came to a halt at the ninth floor. "Here you ladies are, have a great day!"

"You too, Ganon," Zelda said, flashing him a smile as the walked off. "See you later today."

He offered a last wave as the grate slid closed once again, and he took the elevator back down, slowly descending into the shaft.

The familiar clacking of the sewing machines filled Zelda's ears, as well as the murmured chatter of the early morning that never increased in volume until nine.

Routinely, the two girls walked to grab their work cards and clocked in. Already most of the other girls were seated at their sewing machines, working furiously, though it was barely five in the morning.

"I wish this place would burn to the ground," Aryll muttered darkly as she trudged over to her station, which was one machine away from Zelda's. A pretty young girl named Ilia sat between them. She was already hard at work, sewing together two pieces of starched cloth at breakneck speed.

"You really _are_ especially charming this morning," Zelda remarked, taking her seat on the uncomfortable, hard wood bench. "Any reason why?"

Aryll shrugged as she grabbed her first pieces of fabric. "Didn't sleep much last night. Had to help Link with... something."

"Something? What kind of something?" Zelda urged. Though Aryll only hummed as she threaded her machine, refusing to make eye contact with the demanding Zelda.

With a dramatic sigh, Zelda sat on the hard workbench and smiled warmly at the girl beside her. "Good morning, Ilia," she greeted.

The girl briefly paused in her frenzied work to smile at her before ducking back down and resuming her former activities.

Ilia had been a good friend of Zelda's ever since she had started working at the Triforce Shirtwaist. On her first day of work, Zelda had noticed pretty little Ilia sitting all alone at lunch, miserably nibbling at a piece of stale bread. Ilia was a lot of things. She was sweet, she was loyal, and she was kind. But there was one major problem with Ilia that drove away many potential friends: she was mute. Though Zelda, who didn't see why not being able to speak should keep one from having friends, had walked over and sat with the girl anyway, and they had been friends ever since.

Though she didn't see Orielle anywhere...

Frowning, Zelda picked up her spool of thread and began to prep her machine for the long day. After making sure her bobbin was in straight, as it was often knocked crooked, she grabbed her pieces of fabric and began the monotonous chore of sewing shirtwaists.

Orielle was Zelda's very best friend, besides Link, of course. She lived only a block away, and the girls had met playing jumprope outside one day. They couldn't be more opposite, yet the cliche opposites attract couldn't be more accurate in their situation. While Zelda was timid, yet sweet and kind, Orielle was brash, outgoing, and not afraid to be rude or speak her mind. She was like a sister to Zelda, though, and she couldn't imagine what she would do without her.

She was a little ticked that she wasn't at work, though. She better have a good excuse-

The elevator door rattled open, and in swept Orielle, a glowing smile on her face and her usually neat brown braid frazzled and messy. Waving off the angry floor manager, she clocked in and came to sit beside Zelda. The smile had never left her face.

"Where were you?" Zelda demanded as her friend began loading her needle into the machine.

"Oh you know, around," Orielle replied slyly.

Zelda frowned. Orielle was acting smugger than usual, her fox-like grin taunting Zelda with the secrets it held but wouldn't tell. She turned to Ilia, hoping the mute girl would know something she didn't, but she looked equally confused, leaning forward to hear what Orielle had to say.

"Around where?" Zelda pressed.

Orielle's smirk widened, threatening to jump off her face. "Well, you both have heard me talk about handsome boy next door Pipit, right?"

Both girls nodded enthusiastically. They had heard _way_ too much about Orielle's neighbor, the good-looking Pipit Tyler. They knew his job, what time he woke up in the morning, and his favorite animal, which happened to be a the national bird of Hyrule, a Skyloftian Wing. It was probably an unhealthy thing to know such information about a person they had never met, but they knew it nonetheless.

"Go on!" Zelda urged, work forgotten. This was sounded like it could get good.

"Well, last night he invited me to dinner in his apartment. We had a few drinks, we talked a lot, like almost all night, and then..." she paused for effect, grinning at her wide-eyed friends. "And then we may or may not have slept-"

"Get to work ladies, come on!"

The sharp voice of Mido, the hot-tempered floor manager, cut through Orielle's story. Zelda and Ilia jumped a bit while Orielle remained stationary, only rolling her eyes and turning to her machine.

After a roughly a minute with only the sound of clanking sewing machines filling the air, Zelda couldn't take it anymore and burst out, "You slept with him!?" This came out louder than intended, and several odd glances were cast her way.

"Shh!" Orielle hissed, glaring at Zelda from the corner of her eye. "Good grief, you're so _loud_."

This drew a soundless giggle from Ilia, who looked at Zelda with teasing eyes, as if to say, "I totally and completely agree."

"To answer your question that the entire building heard, yes we slept together." She paused briefly, then added, "It was great."

Ilia exhaled loudly, what would have maybe been a snort, and Zelda rolled her eyes. "Well I should assume so," she said. "You make that man out to be a god."

Orielle shrugged before turning back to her machine. "He is. Best sex I've ever had."

Two pairs of eyes widened simultaneously.

"Ori! _You've had sex before and never told us_-"

"Ladies! I said QUIET!"

Zelda was forced into a silent state, staring at her machine with still wide blue eyes. Orielle was grinning wickedly at her work, and Ilia would pretend to work while sending glances over at her friend every so often.

Looking up at the clock, which read five-twenty three, Zelda reluctantly returned to work. Only six hours and thirty-seven minutes till break.

And at lunch, boy was Orielle going to get it.

* * *

**1:46 PM**

Aryll was ready for the day to be over.

It hadn't been an explicitly bad day, but it wasn't a good one either. She still had to get up at four in the morning. She still had to come to this God-forsaken factory and slave away to give extra support her family. But the real icing on the cake today was that she was forced to sit through the half-hour lunch break listening to Zelda interview Orielle on her sex life, which was more extensive than Aryll would have cared to know.

All in all, Aryll was tired and hot and had a headache, which the clicks of hundreds of sewing machines really didn't help.

Sometimes she thought about quitting. About standing up and yelling, "I'M DONE!" and storming away to the elevator leaving the other girls to stare after her in admiration. Other times, usually on bad days, she thought about just marching up to Mido and strangling him. Prison would be better than this, she thought. At least the meals were free.

Zelda and Link called her sadistic. Cynical. Negative. She preferred to think of herself as realistic. Her life sucked, and the sucky job only made her life suck worse. Why put all this unnecessary stress in her life?

_Because of Mom. And the babies. Can't have Ralph and Nayru starving, now can we?_

Her mother's health was frail. Not many people knew this, not even Zelda really. Having four kids in the dirty tenement buildings on sewage filled streets in the smog-clogged part of town didn't do much to help a person. Aryll wanted to cry sometimes, watching her mother struggle to lift up her own children to feed them. She knew Zelda's mother fought exhaustion, but exhaustion didn't hold a candle to her mother's frailty.

So here she was, wasting away in this hell all for her mother's sake. Link did too, she knew. And her father. They all worked hard, hoping to save enough to pay for hospital care.

Her mother would deny needing it, of course.

_I'm fine. _

She used the same excuse every time as she coughed and shook washing clothes.

_I'm fine. _

But she wasn't, and they all knew that. And that was why she barely ever saw her father. That was why Link searched for any odd job he could take and worked in the firehouse through the jeers of the older firemen. He did it for his family, and also for Zelda.

That was enough to bring a smile to her face. She supposed Link and Zelda were her current ray of sunshine in the gray clouds. For the longest while, Link had a plan. It was a very simple plan with two key components: a dinner and a ring.

Aryll had been privy to this information for a long time now, though it was very recently that the two parts of the plan were coming together. Link had finally saved up enough for the nice meal, and he and Aryll had been pooling their money together for the ring.

All of last night had been spent browsing the jewelry shops for the perfect ring (which took a lot longer than Aryll expected, really it was only a ring, she didn't think Zelda would care if the diamond "reminded him of her eyes") and practicing just what to say with Aryll playing the role of Zelda.

Admittedly, she had had a lot of fun turning his fake proposals down.

But that was the only thing driving her through the day today. The proposal. The prospect that Zelda would become her sister-in-law, if she said yes, which Aryll knew she would.

_And then what?_

The question gnawed in the back of her brain. Then what? After Link and Zelda were off and married, then what? What would get her through the long days?

_Mommy and Daddy and baby Ralphie and baby Ru. You need to help them, they're not fine._

Link helped her a lot. She wasn't sure what he was helping her with, but whenever she was around him and his goofy grin, she didn't feel so- so _heavy. _Once he was gone and out of the house, what would she do? How could she live with the heaviness when Daddy is gone and Mommy has trouble standing up?

_Depression._ She'd read about the awful word in cheap magazines she found on the street. A mythical sort of disease, the paper called it. Eats your mind, devours your soul, leaving nothing but a dark shell. It scared her, like the heaviness scared her.

Once she told Link about it. About the_ depression _word. He laughed and told her that those magazines tried to sell you sugar water that cured cancer and wrote articles insisting that the sky was green.

_"You're fine, Ary," _he'd told her. _"There's nothing devouring your soul!"_

She was fine.

She took her foot off the machine pedal, just for a moment.

She was fine. Just like her mother was fine. Like her whole fucking family was just peachy _fine. _

Biting her lip, she resumed her work, making the same stitches she had been making all day, and the day before that, and before that, and before that. But she was fine, like Link said.

Just like her mother, she told the same lies. She was _fine_.

* * *

**4:37 PM **

Ruto Spires supposed she was fortunate.

She sat and watched hundreds of girls sit and sew and sew and sew all day long at the Triforce Shirtwaist Factory. At least she wasn't one of them. She only watched, and got paid a few cents more to do so.

Her official title was "Eighth Floor Communications."

She told herself every day she should be thankful to have as good of a job as she did. But that never kept her from hating it anyway.

Taking a drag of her cigarette, she looked out the window and watched the cars and people walk by.

It was the same as every day. Dirty paved roads. Mobs of people. Buildings stretching up to the sky, like lonely steel skeletons. She found it all rather depressing, really. The whole city just _radiated _with a sad undertone. Half of the girls in this room wouldn't make it. They'd starve or be murdered or raped or whatever. She read about new cases like that every day.

She wondered if the city could feel it to, that current of misery that ran through its streets like a river.

Smiling wryly, she flicked her cigarette into the nearby wastebasket. Why wasn't she a poet? It would be a hell of a lot better than being Eighth Floor Communications.

Turning back to watch the girls, Ruto slumped a bit. The day was so close to being over. Those last minutes were always the worst. You could see the girls fidgeting, the increased glances at the clock, the incessant sighing. The last minutes would just drag on and on, as if the flow of time slowed to take a rest break every day at four-forty in the afternoon.

And after the longest minutes of her day, Ruto only had twenty more minutes to get to her _second _job, the one she preferred not to talk about. The one that required sequin dresses, dirty words, and a lot of alcohol.

It wasn't her intention to start down that path. But there was this one night, one really bad night, when she had no money, no food, and at that time, no apartment. She sat on the curb and cried and cried. Then a man walked up to her, asking her how much "she went for," like she was some common object. She told him an amount, enough to get through the week, and thus started her career.

Maybe she was a common object. Another pretty face struggling to make ends meet-

"Fire!"

That single word froze her to that spot, azure eyes wide.

_Shit._

Whispers and cried of fear ran through the room of girls; some stood up, craning to see.

"Remain calm, ladies, it's only in the wastebasket," Byrne, the older floor manager assured, grabbing one of the two buckets of water reserved for the exact occasion.

_Shit I started it I'm sorry-_

One bucket of water. A small hiss. Nothing happened and the fire blazed on, consuming scraps of fabric and paper.

Ruto stood up and grabbed the second, dumping it on the inferno. Yet the fire was still there, now catching the curtains that hung from the window by her desk. Her eyes grew wide, and she looked up at Byrne.

Girls were screaming now, getting up from their spots. Fire ate at the curtains, spreading to the walls.

"Call the tenth floor!" Byrne yelled over the commotion. "Tell them to get the ninth floor!"

The tenth floor was Communications Central. Each floor had a Communications Operator, but they could only call the tenth floor. Tenth Floor Communications was in charge of calling all other Operators.

Nodding, not sure was to say- _I started it I'm __sorry- _Ruto grabbed the phone and pushed the 10. The curtains next to her burned, the heat licked her cheek. Girls were rushing to the stairs, calling for the elevator.

"Tenth floor, how may we help you?"

"Yes, this is floor eight! We have a big fire, please this is urgent, call the ninth floor, let them know immediately!" Ruto cried.

She got no reply. Tenth floor had already hung up, fleeing for her own safety. Ruto listened to the dead line, eyes- _your fault little shit- _wide with terror and guilt.

The fire burned on.

* * *

**4:35**

Link Kennedy sat at the table, lightly drumming his fingers on the stained wood. His eyes were glued to the clock mounted on the wall and not on the cards in his hands. Poker really wasn't his favorite thing in the world. He had better things to do than throw his money away betting on silly pieces of glossy cardboard.

A grizzled man in his late forties let out a small growl and threw his cards down and blew out a puff of cigar smoke. "I fold," he announced, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.

It was currently four thirty-five. This meant only twenty-five minutes until his shift was over, and only an hour and a half until his dinner date with Zelda, the special one he had planned over six months ago, the one he was going to propose at.

He'd practiced a zillion times at least last night, editing and revising exactly what he would say and do. He felt a little bad for making Aryll play Zelda while he practiced, though he didn't think she minded thinking of obscene excuses for why she couldn't marry him. One of which was, and he quoted, "You know, I'm sick of this 'romantic proposal' shit. Sorry, lover boy, it's over." God, she was weird.

Thinking of the ring sitting safe in its box back at home, Link grinned. He could only imagine her face, lighting up with that beautiful smile of hers. He was practically squirming with anticipation. An hour and fifty-five minutes. Only an hour and fifty-five minutes before his life took a definite turn for the better-

"Kennedy!" a sharp voice barked.

The young man snapped back to attention, cheeks red. Laughter bubbled around the table, much to the shy young man's horror.

"It's your turn, boy," the speaker, a man named Rusl said roughly.

Link glared at him before mumbling, "I'll call," and shoving the appropriate amount of chips forward.

Rusl was kind of like a grizzly bear. He had an extremely short temper and the tendency to bite, but once you got to know him, he was a big teddy bear. Well, at least that's what Link had heard. Really he was a teddy to everyone _but_ Link. Rusl liked to single Link out, calling him "kid," "boy," and the antagonist's personal favorite, "the Chief's brat."

Yes, it was true Link was pretty young for the squad. He was twenty years old, twenty-one in a month. It was also true that the only reason he had been admitted to the fire squad was because his dad was the current Fire Chief, and a damn good one at that. He'd wanted his son to start early, and up until a year ago Link had made his money cleaning fire engines.

Frankly, he'd liked scrubbing the layers of soot off the engines better than being on the squad. Every day, he was teased and poked at and made fun of. As soon as his father entered a room, the men would straighten up and clap him on the back and call him "chum" or "buddy." As soon as his father left, the taunts would come back.

_Favoritism_, they called it. _You're just Daddy's little baby, getting whatever he wants. Well we know better. You think you can just strut in here and steal jobs from more __experienced, competent men. You think you're better than us. Well I'll tell you something, kid. That ain't gonna fly here._

It wasn't true. He'd never gotten anything he'd wanted without putting in a little work. His dad had taught him that. He told him he could do anything as long as he was willing to put in the work.

Link had put that theory to the test again and again, and it had proven true every time. He'd been able to buy Zelda a heart Contáineré necklace a long while back. He could buy Aryll a fancy chocolate from that nice store from time to time. He'd saved up for this fancy dinner, and it was all thanks to hard work.

He glanced back at the clock. Four forty. He wondered if Zelda was thinking of their date as well. Had Aryll told her of his plans to propose? He certainly hoped not, otherwise that dollar bribe would have gone to waste. Though he loved his sister to death, she could be a little snake sometimes-

That's when the bell rang. Shrill, piercing. It made Link wince. Every man at the table leapt up, knocking chairs back, letting cards fall to the table. An ace fell from Rusl's sleeve, though no one but Link seemed to notice. The dirty damn cheater.

"Right at the end of our shift, too," Link heard a man grumble. "This better not be another stupid cat."

The theory that someone's cat was once again in need of rescuing from a ferocious tree was soon put to rest.

"Fire! Fire!" a lieutenant called, rushing into the room, eyes wide and face red. "Fire, come quick!"

That put a spring in the firemen's steps. Rushing to the old rusty fire pole, which Link absolutely hated and spent hours trying to convince his father it would give him tetanus, the squad slid down one by one before hurrying to get their gear on.

"Haven't seen anyone that worked up 'bout a fire in a long while," Link's only friend on the squad, Kafei said as he jogged alongside Link. "Must be something serious."

Link nodded as he pulled on the uniform thick suspenders. "Has anyone heard where it's at yet?" he asked.

His friend shrugged. "I haven't. I'm sure someone knows."

Kafei was only three years older than Link and was previously the youngest on the team. He was the most accepting when Link's father had promoted him from washing fire engines to an official firefighter. All through that first year, Kafei was supportive and helped to give Link little tips to make his job easier. They'd grown pretty close, Link supposed, and he guessed he could call the young man his good friend.

"It's at Triforce Shirtwaist," someone down the line of firemen called.

Link almost fell out of his boots.

"It's where?!" he cried hoarsely.

"You heard me," the man, who turned out to be Rusl, sneered. "Triforce Shirtwaist."

Everything seemed to move in slow motion. He heard Kafei trying to talk to him, maybe calling his name, but he couldn't quite comprehend what he was saying. His heart was thudding, his breathing faster.

_Oh no. Oh no, no that's not right. It's not Triforce Shirtwaist, that's where Ary and Zelda are. There can't be a fire there no no NO!_

"Link!" his friend was shaking him, eyes wide with concern. "Come on, pull yourself together, we gotta go!"

Nodding, Link snatched up his hat and began buttoning his coat with maniacal speed. They were probably okay. They could get out, right? There were fire escapes and doors and stairs and elevators. They were fine.

"Kid, get in the truck!" Rusl snarled.

"Come on, Link," Kafei prompted softly. "Come on. We have to save them."

Save them. But they would be okay.

Link jumped on the fire engine, barely taking his position before the engine lurched into motion, sirens wailing, red lights flashing.

He would see them there when he got there. They'd be just fine, a little shaken, but there to see him, he assured himself.

They were _fine._

* * *

**4:45 PM**

Just fifteen more minutes. Fifteen minutes until she was free.

Usually, Zelda wasn't this jittery to get out of work. Ilia was always the jumpy one, glancing at the clock and counting seconds. Today was different, though. Her date with Link was only an hour and forty-five minutes away.

She'd spent the day thinking about the hundreds of things that his "special surprise" might be, maybe a necklace, or a dress, a ring... Orielle suggested that it might be sex, but she'd brushed that off quickly.

She and Link both valued abstinence until marriage, unlike her irrepressible friend, who apparently had been around a lot more than Zelda had realized.

Casting yet another glance at the clock (maybe it had moved, maybe they were caught in a fifteen minute time-warp) Zelda suppressed another sigh and stared blandly at the half finished shirtwaist in front of her.

Everyday was the same. She didn't think she could take another day of waking up at four to come here and sew and sew and sew _allllllll daaaay looong_. It was killing her, slowly but surely, taking another piece of her every single day. She didn't know how much longer she could last.

A frantic tug on her sleeve drew her from her personal lamenting. She shook her head, scattering her woeful thoughts. Thinking negative never got anyone anywhere.

Ilia sat next to her, eyes wide, pointing frantically at her nose, then at the surrounding air. Zelda frowned.

"Your nose? Does it hurt, are you alright?" she asked, concerned.

Ilia shook her head, loose silvery blonde curls flying. Again, she pointed to her nose, then inhaled dramatically.

"Smell? There's a smell?"

The other girl nodded, pointing at Zelda's nose then inhaling again. She seemed frazzled, frantic. Zelda was a little alarmed, as she knew Ilia's other senses were finely attuned to compensate for the lack of speech. Perhaps there was some kind of poison clouding up their air?

_Don't be paranoid._

Inhaling deeply, a familiar, pungent scent swelled into her nostrils. Exhaling, she frowned and turned to Ilia.

"Funny, it kind of smells like smoke-"

Glass sprayed in from the window, flying into the rows of tightly packed girls, littering the floor. Zelda screamed as a shard sliced across her cheek, cutting it easily like ripe fruit. Her hand flew to her cheek, breathing pace increasing. When her fingers drew back, they were stained red.

_(And the Red Death held sway)_

That's when the smoke came, billowing into the room like a toxic cloud, followed by flames leaping in-between the broken glass. It glowed red-hot, melting like it was fresh from a forge.

Already, the fire had devoured the curtains and was moving to the walls and floor. Dancing. It was dancing, Zelda could see it skipping and turning gleefully across its ballroom floor-

Chaos broke out immediately, screaming girls leapt up from their stations to run to the exits. Crowding bumping, shoving. Smoke was smothering the room, clogging clean air and hazing over vision.

"Take the stairs!" she heard Mido bellow. "The stairs, ladies!"

Jumping up, heart pounding, adrenaline racing, she searched frantically for Aryll, and found her paralyzed in her spot, eyes wide.

"Aryll, come on!" she yelled, shaking the girl. "We need to get to the stairs, come _on_!"

Yet the girl sat, staring straight ahead. "I didn't mean it," she whispered, barely audible over the commotion. "I didn't want it to burn to the ground."

"I know Aryll, but you need to get up, come on," Zelda said forcefully, a little shrilly, tugging on her arm.

This got the girl moving, and she allowed Zelda to drag her in the general direction of the stairs. But where were the stairs? Smoke was no longer a haze, but a monstrous black cloud engulfing the girls in its mass.

Flames were everywhere now, dancing red, beckoning with long arms-

_come dance with us-_

and the heat was becoming unbearable. Smoke clouded her vision and made her eyes water, and already you could hear girls hacking.

"Where are the stairs?" someone cried shrilly. "I can't see!"

Zelda pushed her way through the growing crowd. Behind her, she heard a crash as a table of sewing machines was toppled to the ground by the panicking girls. Sparks were flying. Flames were spreading. Screams were incessant, a constant song of terror.

"They're locked!" a hoarse shriek pierced through all the other noise. "The stairs! They're locked!"

This sent a new wave of panic, and girls began to scream and cry. Zelda herself felt sick, partly from the smoke and mostly from their dire situation.

_(Easy as shooting fish in a barrel, helpless little fish locked in their big ol' barrel)_

"Call the elevator!" Orielle yelled, cupping her hands over her mouth. "Hurry!"

Girls rushed over to the grate shaking on it, crying and screaming as if the elevator itself would hear their pleas for help. Their yells echoed emptily off the dark walls of the elevator shaft.

"Push the button!" Zelda screeched hysterically.

Her calm was cracking. There was no rationality in the room. No one could think. No one was calm.

_Runscreamyell just GET OUT_

Fire crackled and consumed behind them. She could hear cries and screams of the girls who were stationed in the back and couldn't see their way to the front. How terrifying that must be, to be lost in a room you know so well, the way closed by a curtain of smoke, a barracade of flames-

Suddenly, a loud crack was heard. Whirling around, Zelda watched in horror as a section of the ceiling crashed to the floor, crushing a table of sewing machines and, judging by the strangled screams, a few girls. Sparks flew up into the air, floating like fireflies, dying almost as soon as they glowed.

Zelda choked back a sob, not wanting to look to see who was unlucky, who had bit the dust.

_(Ashes to ashes, dust to dust we all fall down)_

She saw tears cascading down Aryll's cheeks as she shoved against the crowd, fighting to be near the elevator.

_Got to get out, need to live, can't die, going to die-_

Someone tapped at her sleeve, and turning, Zelda saw Ilia, eyes red and watery from the smoke. She was pointing frantically at the windows, her gestures urgent, like they had been only moments before. Zelda coughed and shook her head, not sure what she was getting at, and then it dawned on her.

"Fire escape!" she yelled, her voice surprisingly raw. "Use the fire escape!"

This created a flood to get to the window, girls screaming and fighting and shoving. Zelda saw one girl get pushed into the fire, skirt catching flame. _(Now you can dance with us too, dance with us!)_ Ordinarily she would have stopped. But this wasn't ordinary. There was no more camaraderie, no more friendship. It was survival, not sentiment.

_There is no 'I' in team Zelda, no 'I' in team!_

Mido was the first to attempt to get down the fire escape. He was followed by a massive crowd, struggling and rushing to get out. Escapes were cheap, Zelda knew, not designed to hold much weight. All the girls knew they were only put there for show, so the government wouldn't get on their case-

The fire escape groaned under the weight of all the frantic girls. Groaning in pain, can't carry more... Zelda's stomach lurched as she watched one last girl get on-

With a wrenching creak, the fire escape came loose from the side of the building, sending the girls tumbling onto the next fire escape landing. They seemed to be fine, picking themselves up and continuing their way down the escape, not even casting a glance back up at their friends burning like torches inside.

There was one girl, however, who wasn't fortunate enough to land on the next flight of stairs.

Screaming, she tumbled and fell until she was silenced by the asphalt. Gasps and shrieks rippled through the mass of girls.

The fire escape was gone, fallen next to the lifeless form of the girl. An angel who had forgotten to flap.

The elevator was the only way out.

A ding signified its arrival. Girls stampeded to get to it, pushing through the flames. Some of their clothes were on fire. All of the girls had singed hair. All of them had tear tracks running down ash covered faces.

Zelda felt overwhelmed. She was dizzy and nauseous, and she hurt everywhere. It was like a massive sunburn on every part of her body. She was openly sobbing now, holding tight to Aryll's hand as they attempted to reach the safety of the elevator.

_Going to die going to die, oh someone HELP ME!_

Ganon ushered as many girls as he could into the car, maxing out its weight capacity. Secretly, he looked for Zelda in the screaming masses of burning girls. He couldn't find her. He had to leave. Girls screamed as he closed the grate and left.

"What if he doesn't come back?" one girl sobbed. "What if we're stuck up here?!"

A sudden terror gripped Zelda's heart with its cold hand. What if she was stuck here, roasted alive, like bread in the bakery oven. How long did it take for a person to be cooked? Five minutes? Ten? Thirty, maybe an hour or two?

_(Ashes, ashes, we ALL FALL DOWN)_

The elevator returned though, Ganon looking determined as he once again let girls crowd into the elevator.

A tongue of flame licked Zelda's arm- _dance with me, you'd be unwise to refuse_- and she screamed in pain. Aryll was now full out sobbing, uttering garbled prayers between her choked breaths. She couldn't find Ilia. Couldn't see Orielle.

_(Maybe they're dead already, roasted alive, golden brown like a good loaf of bread-)_

Screaming to dispel the terrible imaged flooding her brain, Zelda pushed forward with more intensity than before. She needed to be free of this oven!

"No! Wait, Nabooru don't!" she heard someone near the elevator wail.

Nabooru, one of the only Gerudo girls in the entire factory, was poised to jump down the shaft. Zelda's eyes widened.

"I'll land on the elevator, I'll be able to get down!" Nabooru insisted, wild despair in her eyes. "I can't wait anymore!"

_(Can't wait, no just can't wait.)_

_(-DEATH HELD SWAY OVER-)_

Before anyone else could protest, the girl had flung herself down the shaft. This was met by several piercing screams. Then they heard the thud, quiet, echoing. The girl who had been trying to get her to stop let out a terrible shriek and burst into tears before jumping after her. Another thud, this time closer.

Three more girls jumped, and this time you could see them on the top of the elevator. Nabooru's neck was at an awkward angle. She didn't move; her glassy eyes were fixed on Zelda, reflecting the flames.

Zelda shuddered, and thankfully the elevator rose, and hid away Nabooru and her mirror-like eyes. More girls were ushered into the elevator, but even more were banging on the grate.

"Ganon!"

"Let us through!"

"Hurry, please! It hurts, Ganon, it hurts!"

It was Orielle who had yelled that, not too far away from her, a tear rolling off the tip of her nose.

Strong Orielle who never cried ever. Never ever.

Ganon looked pained as he slid the door closed and rushed the elevator down. Four more girls jumped after it. Their thuds echoed ominously.

_T'was Grace that taught my heart to fear..._

"Zelda I'm scared!" a high pitched voice reached her ears. Surprised, she looked down to see the voice belonged to Aryll. Any spunk the girl had had previously now had burned away with the fire. "I'm so scared and I want my dad!"

A moment of clarity broke through Zelda's hysteria. Here she was holding this little girl grown up too fast, burning to ashes in the inferno.

_No 'I' in team._

_(Ashes to ashes, dust to dust)_

"I know Aryll," she murmured, watching as the elevator cable strained to pull the elevator up with the bodies stacked on top. Bodies with glassy eyes like mirrors who couldn't wait, just couldn't wait.

It would break soon, her worst nightmare come true. Zelda knew that. "You'll see your dad soon, alright?"

Aryll only shook her head, burying her face into Zelda's shirt. Flames raged behind them, eating up the space previously untouched with flames. They were all sweating, bunching closer and closer together as the flames herded them like cattle before the slaughter.

Breathing was now a conscious effort, a struggle to inhale oxygen and not the poisonous clouds of smoke. Flames were still dancing, still laughing, still calling.

_Dance with us, we'll play nice if you do..._

Once again, the elevator came into view.

"Hurry ladies!" Ganon yelled. "The cable can't take much more!" This created an even bigger rush to get on the elevator. Crying, screaming, a call for mom, a wail for dad, a prayer to God...

Zelda fought her way, shoving through the mob. Orielle made it on. She still couldn't find Ilia. The grate was closing, shutting the way-

_(gates to Heaven closing before her pretty little eyes, like Lucifer she was being cast away)_

With a mighty heave, Zelda shoved Aryll forward, into Orielle's arms. The way was-

_shut, it was made by those who are dead, and the dead who keep it. the way is-_

shut. Instantly, Aryll turned around and shook the grate. Blue eyes were wide with fear and shock.

"ZELDA!" she shrieked. "ZELDA NO!"

"Aryll I'm sorry!" she choked, brushing the little girl's hand one last time as the elevator descended. "I love you, and tell Link I love him and my mom-" she choked on her words. "I'll be down next, okay Aryll? Down next with you."

Orielle's face was pink with tears and burns, nodding at her best friend who nodded in return. "I'll be down next," Zelda stated again.

_Next. I'll see you soon_.

Ganon caught her eye a last time, mouthing something she only barely read before they all disappeared from sight. _I love you._

_I love you. See you soon. I'll be okay, down next, okay Aryll?_

It was when she distantly heard the thunk of the elevator hitting the ground floor, the cable had finally snapped, that she truly broke down into a fit of hysteric sobs. She struggled for air hacking and coughing, her body shaking.

_The way is SHUT, it was made by those who are dead, and the the dead keep it-_

_(Come dance with us, we'll play nice if you do)_

Mobs were gathering at the window, gasping for air, running from the flames. She stumbled to join them, pushing and crying to get to the window. Long tendrils of flame, thin bony fingers, stretched out at her. Her vision was red and orange, clouded with smoke. Her mind was a blank haze, only one word running over and over.

_survivesurvivesurvivesurvivesurviveSURVIVE_

"Wait, look!" someone near the front of the massive crowd shrieked. "They have a ladder, look, they have a ladder!"******  
**

Hope blossomed, and the cries of desperation became greater still as the war was fought to reach the window.

Almost in slow motion, Zelda watched as one girl broke free of the mob, climbing her way up onto the window sill, stepping over piles of half-melted broken glass. She was doing it. The unspoken last resort that was on everyone's mind, but no one dared to vocalize. She was the brave one, the first to go...

"Don't jump, Saria, they have a ladder! Just wait, Saria PLEASE!" someone cried, their voice cutting above the screams.

Her green skirt blew in the wind, her face was calm as she pulled away from the hands reaching for her, grabbing her. A second girl climbed next to her, her face the same mask of deathly calm.

_Can't wait, just can't wait..._

_(Suicide is a sin Mommy always said but I just can't wait better to jump than to bake!)_

Better to jump than bake...

With wide eyes, Zelda watched as the two girls cast a last glance into the factory, and let themselves fall over the edge.

_Down, down, down.  
_

_(Come dance with us...)_

* * *

**4:53 PM**

Hopes of his loved ones being outside waiting for him were shattered as soon as the building came into view. Smoke billowed into the sky. Flames leapt out of broken windows. You could already hear the screams, the shrill shrieks of pain and terror mingling with the wailing sirens. It was like some sort of grotesque symphony of death.

"Oh Christ," he heard Rusl whisper.

They jumped out of the truck instantly, already grabbing for their tallest ladder. The fire was on the eighth floor, the tendrils of flame skyrocketing to the ninth. They were on the ninth. Zelda and Aryll were on the ninth.

Link and Kafei assisted in grabbing the ladder, running to prop it up against the building. He could see them coming to the window, more gathering as shouts of a ladder could be heard. They were all huddled at the windows, screaming and crying while the inferno blazed behind them.

_They're in Hell, burning in Hell._

As they ran, Link nearly tripped over what looked like a slightly charred bundle of cloth next to the twisted metal of a fallen fire escape. He nearly lost his lunch when he saw a limp arm hanging out of the bundle.

"Get a net!" he yelled. "The fire escape's gone, and oh dear God, get a net!"

Already, another girl was climbing up onto the sill, her face streaked with tears. Hands clawed at her, pulling on her skirt, voices called to her, begging her to stay. The growing crowd around the building saw what was happening.

"Don't jump!" someone screeched. "Just wait, they have a ladder!"

Rusl and a captain whose name escaped Link at the moment came running with a net. Another girl climbed up next to the first.

Link watched with wide, terrified eyes as the two girls flung themselves from the building. The urgency of the shrieks behind them increased, and the entire city seemed to scream with them.

Rusl and the captain rushed forward with the net, only to watch the girls break through. THUD. THUD. Both bodies landed on the sidewalk.

Now there was no net.

Swallowing hard, Link helped set the ladder against the building, and Kafei began to crank it higher. Fourth floor, fifth floor, sixth- The crank made a shuddering sound of protest. The ladder rose no higher.

THUD.

"Oh God, Link, it won't go any higher!" Kafei cried, his voice rising with his hysteria.

Link's heart was thudding nearly as loud as the bodies hitting the sidewalk. Where was his sister? His girlfriend? Fighters were running into the building now, and even more were rolling out the hoses. Link ran to help, uncoiling a long hose.

Another engine was on the way, probably his father's squad. The wailing sirens clashed with the screaming girls like some sour piano chord, a melody gone wrong.

THUD. THUD. THUD.

They were falling by the dozens now, fighting to get to the window, desperate to jump. Link watched as they flailed and screamed, only to be silenced by the concrete. They were bloodied and broken, charred, scarred, and burning.

THUD. THUDTHUDTHUD.

Bile rose in Link's throat. The water from the hoses was red, red like- _like a river of death-_ the blood, red like the fire. He could smell it now. The sickening stench of burning flesh.

_(And the Red Death held sway over all!)_

Bodies rained down from the sky, jumping together, hugging, holding hands. They all ended up the same, sprawled on the concrete. He saw one girl's face and retched a bit. It was half melted, the skin sagging from her blistered face.

His father's truck arrived just as they had finished unrolling the last hose. The Chief himself jumped out immediately, his face pale, expression taut.

"Get out more hoses! Come on, get moving! Get in there, get survivors!" he boomed, his commanding voice putting a new fervor into the squeamish firefighters. Link made eye contact with him briefly. His father's eyes were burning with a question he wished he knew the answer to.

_Are they okay?_ _They're FINE. _

THUDTHUD. THUD. THUD

Firefighters began emerging from the building, leading a trail of charred survivors, carrying some. He searched frantically for a familiar face, yet saw none.

"We need a squad in the basement!" someone yelled. "The elevator cable snapped at the first floor, there are survivors trapped in the car in the basement!"

THUD. THUD. THUD.

Maybe that's where Zelda was, holding Aryll safe with her. Out on the elevator. Or in the lucky group that made it down the fire escape. They _would _be okay. They had to be. _  
_

And that's when he saw her.

Her golden hair was falling from its usual meticulous up-do, some strands charred black and crumbling. She stood on the sill, skirt flapping in the wind, fire roaring behind her.

She looked like some glorious saving angel. An angel from Hell.

A cry escaped his lips. "Zelda!" He dropped the hose, choking on a sob. "Zelda don't! Don't, Zel, don't!"

* * *

**4:59 PM**

_"Come on, Zel!"_

_Zelda looked down at the speaker, who was already in the cool water, looking up at her expectantly. Biting her lip, she shook her head._

_"This is ridiculous, Link, I'm not jumping from here!"_

_Their families had decided to take a day trip on the bus to Lake Hylia in celebration of Mr. Kennedy being announced Fire Chief. It was only a half-hour ride from the city, and didn't cost too much. _

_After their picnic on the beach, Mr. Kennedy and Aryll had gone into the lake, splashing each other, whooping and hollering. The mothers stayed on shore, as Mrs. Kennedy was __pregnant and her mother wouldn't have gone swimming anyway. "Too cold," she insisted._

_Link, being the daredevil he was, had seen some kids jumping from a high rock outcropping into the lake below and somehow convinced Zelda to do the same._

_So there she was, looking down into the water, at least twenty feet away, feeling a little bit queasy and a lot bit scared._

_"Just jump, Zel, it'll be alright!" he promised._

_Just jump. It'll be alright._

(Zelda!)

_Still, she shook her head. "I'm scared, Link. I don't want to __jump."_

_"You'll be fine! I'm right here at the bottom waiting for you!" he assured her, smiling and beckoning her down._

_He's waiting at the bottom. You'll be fine._

(Zelda don't! Don't, Zel, don't!)

_You'll be fine. It'll be alright. Just jump._

(DON'T)

_It'll be alright._

_With that, she took a deep breath, and jumped._

* * *

**5:00 PM**

He watched her, heart racing, body shaking. She was still for a moment, as if lost in a dream.

Then, she took a step forward and crouched- _poised like a bird to fly- _and she jumped.

"NO!" he screamed, running forward.

He had to catch her, save her, something he COULDN'T LET HER THUD-

"No, Link," he heard his father's voice, felt a strong arm catch him, pull him back. He struggled against it, fighting. "Link, you can't save her you'll only get hurt-"

She never screamed. You couldn't see her face, her blonde hair was flapping all around it. Her blue skirt billowed around her, like a parachute attempting to slow her fall-

THUD.

He felt his heart stop. He lost air, become dizzy. Knees buckling, he collapsed in his father's arms. "No," he whispered. "No."

For a second, the only sound he could hear was that of his beating heart. He saw the mist falling in a curtain from the arcs of water the hoses spouted. The fire was almost out now. A few other girls jumped. Firemen were carrying out survivors from the basement.

Then with the intake of breath, it all came, back, the yells and screams and crying.

"No, Zelda, no!" he cried, tears running down his cheeks.

"Link... Oh God," his father choked out. His father who never took the Lord's name in vain.

Breaking free of his father's grip, Link dashed forward, running to her. He could see her blue skirt splayed about her broken body, the fabric charred and torn. Kneeling beside her, he brushed the strands of wild gold hair out of her face.

The gold was tainted with red. Some of the blackened hair crumbled in his fingers.

Her face was peaceful, her cracked lips shaped in the smallest of smiles. Ash covered her skin, though tear tracks cut through to reveal the pink and red burns beneath. A single cut, still oozing blood, stretched across her cheeks. Tears fell from Link's eyes, splashing on her face.

She was still beautiful.

Her clothes were also charred and falling apart. Her legs... He couldn't look at her legs without feeling sick. Skin was melting like ice cream on a hot day, running in unnatural rivers of peach fluid...

He was crying again, a deep choking cry. Burying his face in her chest, he let out a long, pained scream.

"NO!" he screamed. "No, Zelda, NO!"

She was still warm. Corpses were cold, that's what he'd read. Cold like ice. She was hot, hot like fire. Shaking, he continued to cradle her head in his lap, drawing her near and crying her name over and over again.

_Here comes the bride, that's what was supposed to happen. She was supposed to say yes and be my princess so WHY OH WHY DID THIS HAPPEN?!_

"Why, Zelda?" he asked thickly, wiping his nose with a sooty sleeve. "Why'd you do it?"

This went unanswered, of course. Because she was dead.

Dead. No, she couldn't be dead. No, no, no, no!

"Link?"

He flinched at the sound of his name, at the sound of the voice. Once it would have been familiar. Now it was cracked and hollow.

"Link, big brother I'm so scared! Where's Zelda? She said, she-she said-" he heard her whimpers trail off as she drew nearer to him. She was suddenly very quiet. "Is that... Is that..."

He nodded, feeling tears coming again. That was when she lost it, collapsing on the sidewalk next to him, face buried in her hands, slender form shaking with each gasped breath.

"Ary," he croaked, reaching for his little sister, who was alive and breathing. "Ary come here, please come here!"

She did, dragging herself across the concrete and into his arms. He held her, and the cried together.

"She told me she would see me soon," Aryll whispered hoarsely into Link's chest. "She told me it would be okay, and she'd see me soon. I never thought she meant like this."

* * *

**10:03 PM**

Her last visitors of the night were just wrapping up. Already, she'd had more people come than any other girl. Her mother, a few friends who'd survived, Link's entire family...

He watched solemnly as Orielle, her best friend, was pried away from the makeshift wooden coffin by a young man with a yellow hat. She was still a mess, braid half burnt off, clothes still sooty and bloody.

They had all been put in coffins. Each and every one of them, dropped in a box and lined up for display. Family members came in, crying as the attempted to identify their loved ones among the charred, disfigured corpses. One woman identified her daughter by the stitching on her socks.

Zelda had been placed next to an older man, a floor manager, Link learned, and a girl burnt so bad no one could identify her. He could still see little wisps of silver blonde hair on her head.

Orielle was led away, and a Gerudo man stepped forward. His face was solemn, golden eyes torn with grief.

_He loved her, _Link realized. _He loved her too._

The man was very brief; he knelt down beside her, ran a hand across her cheek and murmured a few words. With that, he stood up and left, nodding at Link before striding away.

_I understand, _Link wanted to call. _I get it. _

Shuffling forward, Link knelt down next to her. The tears had stopped coming about an hour ago. Now he just felt painfully empty, like someone had cut him open, let all his insides spill out, and hastily sewn him back together.

Leaning over to kiss her forehead, he reached into his pocket. "I'll never stop loving you," he whispered, slipping the ring onto her mutated finger. "Never ever."

With that, he stood up and slowly walked away.


End file.
